Devon was most solicitous and attentive throughout the meal. Once they’d begun talking, it had seemed as though Rickford hadn’t been there at all. The night had been almost as perfect as the night they’d met.
One thing that would have made it truly perfect, however, would have been a visit to her bed. But once they’d returned home, he’d kissed her briefly on the cheek and headed to his room. She had waited with anticipation, but after listening to him and his valet speaking for a while in his bedchamber, all had gotten quiet and he never came to her.
Of course, yesterday hadn’t been one of the usual days he was to visit her, but he had missed other days for more than a week now. Her stomach clenched at the thought that he might have already found a replacement for Mrs. Forestor. She had to continue to push him. More research from her book was definitely in order.
“My lady, you have a visitor.” Bellows held out a small card that she took from his hand. Mr. Alexander Rickford.
Her eyebrows rose. Mr. Rickford was calling on her? She’d never had a man call on her since she’d been married. Oh, a few had come with their mothers once in a while, or a betrothed, but never a man by himself. “Is he alone, Bellows?”
“Yes, my lady.”
Strange. “Show him into the drawing room, and please send for tea.” She checked herself in the mirror next to her desk and headed to the drawing room. The knocker sounded as she reached the drawing room, and Bellows admitted two more men. Both of them had partnered her the night before.
Within a half hour, she had a room full of visitors. Three women and five men. Even during her unmarried Seasons she’d never had more than two men calling at a time.
“Lady Devon,” Mr. Rickford said. “Will you be attending the Grossman’s ball this evening?”
“No, I am sorry, Mr. Rickford. I have accepted an invitation to Lady Montrose’s musicale.”
The man actually looked let down, which thoroughly confused her. She was a married woman, after all. She was aware that a number of married women who had already presented an heir and spare to their husbands were apt to conduct discreet affairs. Even if she had already performed that duty, her mother had been very strict that a true lady had no need for passion and would best avoid any liaisons with gentlemen other than one’s husband.
Although, it seemed acceptable for a man to have that freedom, but as she’d learned years ago, the rule book for men was quite different from that for women. Mother had been most adamant about that. Rules for little girls were different from little boys also. Her brother, Nash, now the Earl of Clarendon since her father’s death three years ago, had had freedom throughout their childhood she could only dream about.
“I will be at the musicale, tonight, my lady. It would be my pleasure to escort you.” Lord Dunham placed his teacup on the low table in front of him.
“That will not be necessary.” Devon stood at the doorway, his clipped tone and the disdain on his face bringing the lively group to a halt. “I will be escorting my wife to the musicale.”
Eugenia lowered her lids and took a sip of tea, trying hard to hide her smile. Devon had made it clear when she asked him about attending that he had no desire to subject his ears to another evening of torture. Either he’d forgotten that, or her plan was beginning to work.
“Oh, well, certainly, my lord.” Dunham spoke quickly, then stood. “I believe I will take my leave now. I have an appointment to see to.”
The others all seemed to take that as a signal to depart, as well. The ladies gathered their things and the gentlemen escorted them out the door; all the while Devon leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed.
Once the front door closed, Eugenia turned to him. “That departure was quite abrupt. Would you care for tea? I can ring for more since the pot has grown cold.”
He dropped his arms to his sides and strolled into the room. “No, my dear. I do not want tea. I want to know why I come home and find my wife entertaining scores of men.”
“Scores of men?” She flushed and raised her chin. “There were not scores of men, and in case you missed it, there were several women here as well.” Although she certainly wanted his attention, she did not want him terrorizing her guests. “Now if you will excuse me, I would like to rest in order to be fresh for this evening’s entertainment.” She brushed by him and was stopped by his words.
“Do not forget, Eugenia, I will be attending with you.”
She dipped her head in response and continued on upstairs, grinning to herself all the way.
The musicale was as awful as Devon had predicted. Eugenia had attended only because so few people did, and she felt the need to support the Montrose daughters who performed each year. They were lovely girls, and would hopefully find husbands soon and be busy producing heirs for their respective spouses.
“Did you enjoy the musicale, my dear?” Devon settled across from her in their carriage and tapped on the ceiling to notify the driver. “I found it not quite as noisy as other years.”
Eugenia smiled in the darkness, amused at Devon’s apt description of the evening’s entertainment. “I believe the youngest Montrose girl, Susan, has more of a gift for music than her two elder sisters.”
“I would hardly call anything coming from their efforts a ‘gift.’ More like a curse.”
“That is most unkind, Devon.” Unable to control the mirth in her voice, she added, “Not everyone has talents in the vocal area.”
“And those who do not should not be putting on a show for others to suffer through.”
“My, but we are grumpy this evening.” Her teasing tone must have affected him, because he smiled in her direction.
“Perhaps you are right, my dear.”
They were quiet for the rest of the ride home. Devon seemed uneasy, almost as if he had something on his mind, but was wrestling with whether to share it or not. Eugenia watched him from the corner of her eye. Yes, definitely somewhat fidgety. Certainly unlike his normal demeanor.
Once the carriage dropped them off, and they entered the house, Eugenia turned for the butler to remove her wrap and headed for the stairs. Her foot stopped on the first step at Devon’s low voice. “I intend to enjoy a nightcap, my dear. Would you care to join me?”
He’d only once before asked her to join him. He seemed to always enjoy his solitude when they’d returned from an event. Unless, as he sometimes did, he dropped her off and continued on to one of his clubs. Or his mistress.
“Yes. I believe I would enjoy a small drink, myself.”
She took his extended hand and, instead of wrapping her arm in his, he entwined their fingers and led her to the library.
…
It had been more than a week since he’d visited Eugenia’s bed, with the confusion he’d felt at his lustful attraction to her. But without the relief of a mistress, he would have to come to terms with his feelings and bed his wife.
He only wished his heart didn’t thump so loudly at the idea. He’d bedded her faithfully three times a week, Monday, Thursday, and Saturday, since their marriage. So why now did he feel as though he was taking her for the first time?
Once she was settled in the comfortable chair in front of the fireplace, he poured himself a brandy and a sherry for her. He offered her the glass.
“I would prefer a brandy.” She gazed up at him with moistened lips, and his blood raced to his groin as if the most skilled courtesan had beckoned him. He handed her his brandy and returned to the sidebar on shaky legs to pour another one for himself.
They sat in silence while they sipped their drinks, staring at the low fire. Having made up his mind, he said, “Eugenia?”
“Yes.” Lord, her voice was sultry. When had his well-ordered life begun to evaporate? The lust he felt now for this innocent, proper woman, was bringing him to his knees.
“Although this is Friday, I would like to visit you this evening.” The devil take it. Now he sounded like a stilted youth approaching his first whore.
She dipped
her head in acquiescence, and he swore he saw a slight smile of—something—on her lips. Satisfaction?
To his utter astonishment, she took one large swallow of her brandy and stood. “I will prepare myself.” With those words echoing in the cavern of the dark space, she turned and, with a swish of her skirts, left the room.
He stared after her as if everything he’d ever believed his entire life had walked out the room with her. Pulling himself together, he poured another brandy and, in between gulps, paced, desperately trying to calm his racing heart and telling himself this bedding would be no different from any other.
He almost believed it.
After checking his timepiece numerous times, he finally decided she’d had enough time to have her maid undress her—he broke into a sweat—and help her into her virginal nightgown. He needed to keep the vision of her in the type of gown she always wore. White, sleeves to her wrists, neckline to her chin. Suitable bedtime attire for a proper wife.
He listened for sounds coming through the door joining their rooms as Jake helped him out of his clothes and into his banyan. When he’d first arrived upstairs, soft murmurings between Eugenia and her maid had drifted through the door. For the last ten minutes, there had been silence.
With a great deal of anticipation as well as trepidation, he dismissed his valet and passed through the sitting room and opened the door, entering her bedchamber.
The curtains around her bed had been left open. A low fire burned in the grate and a candle glowed on a table next to her. For the first time since he’d begun his visits, he could see her clearly in her bed. She reclined on the pillows, watching his every move with unwavering awareness. Her nightgown did not come up to her chin, nor down to her wrists. The cotton he was so familiar with had turned into something silky and clingy. The neckline on the garment ended barely above her nipples, and there were no sleeves to speak of, merely straps on her shoulders.
The material cupped her breasts, her hardened nipples drawing his eyes. Any thoughts he’d had that this would be like every other bedding, quickly fled. Heart pounding, with his lungs fighting for every breath, he approached her. “Would you like to blow out the candle, my dear?”
She offered him a smile he’d never seen from her, but many times on the faces of the women he’d bedded in the past. Paid women. Kept women. Expensive women. “I think not.”
Thank you, God.
Sitting on the bed alongside her, he reached out and undid the end of the lengthy plait of hair resting against her chest. Slowly, he unwound the braid, shaking it loose until silken waves of golden strands gently caressed her shoulders. He closed his eyes, fisting the curls in his hands, bringing her locks to his nose to inhale the scent of flowers and sunshine.
Eugenia placed her soft hand on his cheek, her thumb stroking his chin. He leaned into her touch. “You are so beautiful, Eugenia. Have I ever told you?” He leaned back, studying her perfect features. “Probably not. A major omission on my part, I’m afraid.”
She dropped her hand into her lap as if waiting for him to make the next move. Which, of course, he always had. After all, she was a lady. He wanted—no, needed—tonight to be different. To enjoy her body, not just attempt to impregnate her. But the situation called for caution, so as not to alarm her delicate female sensibilities.
Devon moved so his body rested next to hers, and slid his arm around her waist. She moved toward him without hesitation. Slowly, he lowered his head to meet her lips in a gentle, soothing kiss. He moved her head so he could go deeper and nudged her lips with his tongue. To his immense surprise and delight, she opened her mouth, and he swept in. She tasted of honey and brandy, warmth and woman.
A slight moan from within her encouraged him to pull her even closer, until her body was flush against his, the rigid nipples of her warm breasts prodding his chest. He anchored her head with both hands and nibbled at her lips, then scattered kisses along her chin, jawline, back up to the soft skin under her ear. She moved her head to give him more access, releasing a soft sigh.
His heart pounded so hard he felt as though his chest would explode. Never had any woman moved him like this. She surrounded him, her scent, her feel, her beauty. He pulled slightly back, attempting to calm himself. He was going much too fast. He would terrify the poor woman and send her racing from the room.
“Why did you stop?” she said with a hitch in her breath that had his blood sprinting to his groin.
She seemed as affected as he was. Her face was flushed, her breathing heavy, and she continued to lick her lips as if her mouth were dry as a desert. Could it be he hadn’t frightened her as much as he feared? Before he could absorb that startling revelation, she cupped his face and pulled him in for a kiss.
Bloody hell.
The heart he’d been trying to calm beat a staccato in his chest. He slid on the sheets until he was lying on his back. Eugenia followed him down, lying partly on top of him, nudging his mouth with her tongue. She swept his mouth as he had done to her. Any blood that hadn’t made a dash to his groin before now happily made the trip.
His hand reached down and tugged on the bottom of her nightgown. Instead of pulling back and gasping as he’d expected her to do, she lifted her hips so he was able to move the garment to her waist.
He ran his palm down her leg. Warm, and oh, so soft to the touch. Since she did not seem to object to anything he’d done so far, he whispered, “May I take off your nightgown?”
Abruptly, she sat up and whipped the gown off before he could blink. Her crystal blue eyes had darkened, her glorious hair tumbled over her body like a shawl. Plump, beautiful breasts, the dark brown nipples pouting, begging for his mouth, sat level with his eyes. Whyever had he denied himself the full pleasure of her body? She was wonderful, pure, clean, and perfect. Every dip and curve called to him. To reach out, to touch, to caress. Tenderly, he took one of her breasts in his hand and stroked the softness, then moved his mouth and suckled. He placed his hand on her shoulder and slid her back down.
Eugenia wrapped her hands around his head and tugged him closer to her body. Her legs moved restlessly, and she softly called his name. Not wishing to ignore her other lovely breast, he switched and allowed his fingers to wander down her body, to her belly, touching the soft skin from there to the thatch of golden hair at the juncture of her thighs.
She sighed a soft breath as his fingers reached her opening, spreading the moist, full petals, dipping his finger in to feel the dampness that gathered there. Wetness for him, for his body to enter hers and surround himself with heaven.
He took her mouth in a slow, gentle kiss, which Eugenia turned into a powerful possession of his mouth. To say he was pleasantly surprised was a gross understatement. She nipped, nibbled, soothed, sucked, then started in all over again.
The scent from her skin and hair mesmerized him, making him want to devour her completely, take her body in ways he never before dreamed of. He tried desperately to hold onto his sanity while she made little mewing sounds, her enthusiastic, yet innocent kisses pushing him very close to the edge.
He froze for a moment and sucked in a quick breath. His body jolted as if struck by lightning as her warm, soft, very proper hand snugly covered his cock like the best courtesan he’d ever had.
Bloody hell, he was lost.
Chapter Ten
“Men, as a rule, do not like surprises, but every once in a while it pays to deviate from the norm.”
Secrets of the Bedchamber, p. 56
Everything Eugenia had read about, and wished for, was coming true. Since he’d entered her room, Devon had not behaved as he had before, treating her like a china doll that would break, or a silly debutante who would swoon at the first sign of passion.
In her daring, she’d clutched his hardened male flesh, swollen and soft. Soft on the outside and hard as stone inside. Now that she’d seen so many drawings of the mysterious object, she thrilled at being able to actually handle it.
And Devon’s manhood was i
mpressive, indeed. She tried to lean back to take a good look, to see how he compared to the drawings in her book, but he yanked her back and, placing both his hands on her head, captured her mouth as if he were starving and she his dinner. He slid one hand down to fondle her breast, slowly rubbing his thumb over the nipple.
She started at the strange sensation that caused, bringing an odd fluttering to her middle, and shooting down to her mons—they’d called it by that word in her book. She was holding onto his cock—that was another term in the book. She felt naughty and excited just having the words run through her brain, bringing shivers to her skin.
Remembering some of the more scandalous drawings, she considered slipping down and replacing her hand with her mouth, but Devon might have apoplexy if she did that. She would save that for another time.
Devon shifted so he lay partially on top of her. Her entire body trembled as he licked her nipple, then blew warm air on the spot. Her eyes drifted closed at the wonderful sensations he drew from her. The air in the room was warm, scented with bay rum and her flowery perfume. When she opened her eyes, Devon stared down at her, his eyes darkened. “You are so very perfect.”
Never had she felt so perfect. She ran her thumb over the tip of his cock, feeling a bit of moisture there. He must have liked that because he sucked in a breath and let out a soft groan. Encouraged, she slid her palms down his back to his buttocks. So hard, so muscular. She squeezed the flesh there and pushed the throbbing spot between her legs against his thigh, rubbing it against his hair-roughened skin. My, that felt good. Wonderful, in fact. She would be happy to do that all day, except she felt as though something was missing. Something more that was out there, and she must reach it.
Seducing the Marquess (Lords and Ladies in Love) Page 10
